


This Is Why We Fight

by Hopetomorrow



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 08:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9431585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopetomorrow/pseuds/Hopetomorrow
Summary: Taako, do you know what it means to be a hero?To love yourself?To be a friend?To do what's right?





	

This Is Why We Fight

“Taako,” The two voguing elves turned their day-glow, oversized sunglasses in his direction and spoke simultaneously, like some kind of fucked up spoken word karaoke shit.  
“What does it mean to be a hero?”  
The lights cut to a supernatural black, and a blinding spotlight shone on him, all alone in the middle of the room.  
Silence stretched out and he felt sweat bead on his forehead. He hoped he looked more confident than he felt, stood a little taller, straightened his robe across his narrow shoulders. Things had seemed to be going so well. He’d made these undead bastards laugh, they had been delighted that he was playing along with their little dating game act. Kept that negativity to himself, played it all close to his chest. Then this. Then fucking this and he knew this was it. Here’s how to suffer, kids. Eyes down, he thought as fast as he could but he knew it. Here’s how Taako, you know, from TV, goes down. Taako the star chef from “Sizzlin’ It Up with Taako!”, broadcast on fantasy televisions fantasy-wide. He took a frantic look to either side and knew there was no getting up from under this one. Bloodied as he was from the previous fights, broken as he was from everything else.  
…..  
“You’re my hero,” he’d said softly, reverently. And suddenly he was 10 again. He was standing in the doorway to his father’s study. The old man was sitting at his desk, facing the window on the opposite wall. He was hunched over something, something Taako couldn’t see. He hadn’t heard Taako. “Father?”  
“No.” His father shook his head, and there was something in that voice. Like a roll of thunder, promising the storm. Something so angry, as though it had endured everything for nothing. As though he just didn’t have anything left. “I’m no one’s hero. I couldn’t fix you, son.”  
I haven’t torn myself up that bad, he thought, but he knew better than to say so.  
“You’re not ever going to be like your brothers, are you? Always showing up and goofing off. Always spitting on the sword your mother bought you. You couldn’t just try for us, could you? Just pretend a little bit that you had a spine? That you were even half a man?” His father stood, and turned finally. Taako recoiled as though he’d been slapped in the face. But then the old posturing reasserted itself. That shit-eating grin slid back on. Thank God I can take this, he thought, of course I can take this. This is nothing new.  
“Par for the fuckin’ course, pops,” Taako slurred, and leaned lazily against the doorway. “Those bros should take a page out of old Taako’s book! I got a lot going on, you know. Learning spells and shit. Not every guy needs to be good at swinging swords.”  
Then he did get slapped, hard enough that it would leave a red welt on his cheek and blacken one eye. His father was holding a letter in his hand, in his only hand, and it fluttered to the floor on impact. The old man had lost his left hand in a battle with a cloaker, but wouldn’t you know, he still lived long enough to sire a fleet of fine, strapping elves to take up the family mantle. Hollyhew. Who fight for the world’s most noble causes. For generations they’d given their sons and daughters to battle and all found themselves in heroic sagas, recounting glorious deeds. They gathered esteem like flies to a carcass.  
The letter said that no, this son of his was something else. Something distinctly other and not worth training to steel. He’d never be bulky enough to wear chain mail, let alone pick up a war hammer in the name of justice. He was just Taako. Just little Taako with his skinny arms and gap-toothed grin. And he couldn’t be anything more.  
His father said nothing further to him, just walked from the room with his son crumpled on the floor. The slap wasn’t the first, and it wouldn’t be the last. It was that look in his father’s eyes. He was beyond redemption.  
That was the first night he’d tried anything drastic. He was a budding young wizard after all, he knew what plants carried what poisons, where to find them. He didn’t hesitate, but he did miscalculate. In the morning he woke with the worst headache of his life and puddle of vomit on his pillow, but still. There he was. Still Taako. It would have been depressing if it weren’t so hilarious. Even this. Even this, he couldn’t get right.  
God, he’d tried to fight, he really had. No, it wasn’t fun, but it was what a Hollyhew did! He practiced with the sword and shield and worked as hard as anyone else. For the first few weeks, at least. Each time he came in last, each time he got tagged while sparring, the gap between him and his peers grew. He tried to laugh at it, get others to laugh at it. They did at first but it got awkward pretty fast. There’s only so much that prat falls and over-long death monologues can salvage. The truth was in the room.  
So he gave up. Just stopped showing up. Because wouldn’t anyone? His father had fought in wars with the worst and darkest beings conjured in this world, and he’d done so with honor. What did Taako have?  
He didn’t reach for a powder or for a couple little white berries. He walked into the forest.  
He left behind that name, those people. They couldn’t see the measure of him, that was all, he’d thought angrily. They couldn’t understand what he’d become. Something bigger and better was waiting for someone like him! Something that suited his fine taste, his quick wit.  
He’d started walking and found himself in Neverwinter after a solid year of wandering and squandering every gold he had to his name. That’s where he met Saazed.  
The food was a comfort, something extraordinary but also warm and familiar. He went every day to the inn, and people noticed. The cook was so kind. A tall, dark eyed elf who always had some flour on his apron. An easy, sly smile. Saazed. He offered, shyly, if maybe Taako might want to learn a few recipes? His favorites, what he always asked for. And so Taako learned, because what did he have to lose? If you love the food, learn to make it and you appreciate every possible iteration of it. Learn to taste each particular spice, and find their balance. It led him pretty naturally back to magic, they were the same. The balancing of the elements, the study of turning one thing into another. Or many things, like carrots and broth into a soup that can make a king cry. And he got good at both. Oh, GOD did he ever get good. Better than Saazed had ever been. He worked and studied and practiced with every pan in the place. He poured over magical tomes while munching thoughtlessly on cookies, dusting the pages with crumbs. His quiche was always perfectly done, he could make lamb taste like heaven. And something in him finally said, “yes, of course.” Naturally. It got an easy rhythm, his hands knew what to do.  
Something else started cooking too. His mentor had become his second in command of a quickly moving kitchen. They’d been up late one night, Taako setting a chilling spell over some tartlets that would be served with breakfast in the morning. Long slim hands took his own, warming them.  
“You bring out the best in me,” Saazed said. His voice was soft and sweet, and the man lay his cheek against Taako’s. So little natural light left, but in the dark they both could see where this going. Taako swallowed his fear, turning away from the table that was now rimmed in frost.  
“I’ve always been a mess with people, my dude,” Taako sighed, looking away. But he didn’t let go of Saazed’s hand. He’d never dared to try this, but he’d seen it in his head every day. He wasn’t gonna just let it go. “You’re…I mean how long have you been here, just making delicious things and charming all the ladies? You must…I mean I’m not even…”  
“You’re more my type,” Saazed said quietly. Taako forgot to breath. Which worked out, since suddenly he found his lips on the move. A whole body shiver went through him, and he melted against the taller elf, wrapped an arm around his neck like he were a life-preserver. It was a good night.  
Saazed was always there to taste his dishes but slowly his admiration started to turn into something else. Taako couldn’t understand, didn’t realize he was seeping his poison into everything. Finally, he’d found a way to be magnificent. Like his brothers. Like his father. He’d earned this power and by god he’d shout it from the rooftops. But Saazed was always there. He was just always there, nudging himself into his limelight. And Taako got careless.  
“Darling, you know I adore you, but my name is the money maker. I’m the lead billing, my man, what are you even gonna do? Prestidigitate some muffins out of the pan?”  
Then came that night and the 40-clove chicken.  
….  
That night, that was the next time he tried, the next time he looked himself in the eye and said, “I’m not doing this anymore.” He looked at his vials, the sleeping draughts, the poison. Longer at the poison.  
The thoughts crept up on him at night while trying to rest his eyes. He couldn’t stay any place for long, every ceiling was new and he’d stare at while lying on his empty bed. The darkness had a way of leeching his bravado. He’d never really be enough, of course he couldn’t have stayed with his family, of course he’d ruin all this in spectacular fashion as well. What true son could he have ever been next to those hulking behemoths? Those were the real heroes, songs sung about them, women falling all over them. What even was he? These gangly limbs and poor posture. This sallow excuse for a face. He could sass and smile all he wanted but he knew. He poisoned everything he touched. His mind skipped over those thoughts like a stone on a still pond, but he knew down there were the twisted faces of his audience, food caught in their throats. Writhing. Dying. Saazed’s smile and his abandonment. The more he grew into himself, the more people turned away from him. He’d say something to show his true colors and they’d say, “but aren’t you...?” And he was, yeah. An asshole. A murderer. He had been something different once before. For a while he’d been something worthwhile, but that night he’d undone it all.  
He’d lay there in the dark, eyes on the ceiling, ignoring how his eyes itched and blurred, unwilling to wipe at his own shameful tears. He wasn’t worth them. He was no hero.

……….

Two arms wrapped around him and pulled, like he was weed in loose soil.  
“Taako, dude, keep your eyes up!” Magnus laughed. They were on their way out of town to catch a new little moon bubble and head back to base. Every bone in his body ached. It’d been close, really really fucking close. How many times had death walked next to them and he’d done a cute curtsy and tossed it the bird? Like today, alone? Far ahead of them Merle was pointing his bracer at the sky, intent on seeing their get-away vehicle descend. Taako glanced back over to Magnus, who had righted him after a stumble on the uneven ground leading out of Goldcliff. This bear of a man, joy just shining off him. He was positively radiant. It was unbelievable. All of it. The fighter caught his expression, naked for just a bare moment, and stopped dead in his tracks.  
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, and it was so. Fuck. It was so tender. It was like he was speaking to a kid who’d fallen and skinned his knee.  
“I’m a big boy, Maggie.” Taako gave a little flip to his bedraggled hair that only underlined his exhaustion. He tried his best to make it elegant. “Just another day on the job, right?”  
“Right,” Magnus said, patting his shoulder affectionately. The wizard flinched away, keeping his eyes low, watching his step.  
“Taako, you did…good. Buddy, you did real good today. We saved…”  
“Did we save anyone, really?” Taako asked. He didn’t recognize his own voice, all strangled and high. Was he angry with Magnus for being so glad it was over? At this world full of things he couldn’t properly forget anymore? “Tell me you won’t be seeing Hurly and Sloan in your nightmares tonight. I’m getting awful sick of seeing people die while I point my fancy umbrella the wrong way.”  
Even this, came the thought again. Even this he couldn’t get right.  
Then, to his relief, the walls slammed back down. Enough of that! Taako, the great Taako would just have to work his magic again and get on with the show. He always did. He gathered himself back up. Brushed some dirt from the edge of his skirt. Taako laughed dismissively and it sounded only a little hollow. “Keepin’ our nose to the grindstone, right Mr. Beefo? Now, I don’t know about you but I’m down to clown and get outta town! You think Avi has any more of that tasty feel-good booze? I could drink a horse.”  
And, stereotypically, Magnus rushed in. It was a hug to end all hugs. Those arms were around him again, holding all of him together again because somehow Magnus knew that he’d lost some critical element of cohesion. Taako looked up and there was his friend, an actual goddamn friend, an inch from his face. He felt a cherry red flush bloom across his cheeks but was too surprised to tear himself away. He didn’t even know if he could, after that fight, after all he’d seen. He felt his smile slip.  
“We’re doing what we can.” Magnus said simply. He felt himself be pressed tightly against Magnus’ chest. Taako could hear the rapid beating of the man’s heart. Hands slid against the back of his shirt, hot as two little frying pans. Magnus’ face on his shoulder. They breathed together, and Taako knew he should walk away now. He should push him. He should shout or laugh and play it all as some ridiculous joke. But his own hands, trembling, slid around his friend’s back, the muscles there all tight as a battlewagon tire.  
It was Magnus who started to cry first. Taako hadn’t expected it, he knew the man had a history, that he’d lost people before. But the way he silently just let the tears fall made something inside Taako clench up. “Why the waterworks, my dude?” he asked weakly. He heard his voice crack and grimaced. “We got places to go, horrifying relics of eldritch power to casually destroy.”  
“Fandolin is on us, Taako.” Magnus said in a soft, flat voice. “That was our doing. That was us. And now Hurly and Sloan.”  
“Yeah,” Taako said, “That’s on us.” And he felt himself, betrayed, hugging Magnus back as hard as he could. Goddamn it, he started crying too. Big awful sobs that he tried to swallow down and still stuttered out of him like a cough. Maybe if he pressed hard enough this awful iciness inside him would crack apart. He leaned his head down. He’d run out of words, and in his head things sort of spiraled down the drain.  
He backed himself down to hiccups and cleared his throat. “I know how I got here, what I’ve done, but why would you go out and do this all over again? We can’t make up for that. There’s no fixing the things we’ve done.”  
Magnus took a deep, shaky breath and leaned back, looking Taako in the eye. “Because people deserve to be happy. You, me, Merle too…I don’t know, we’ve fucked a lot of shit up and we might not deserve the good stuff, not anymore. That’s how I feel. But we’ve been set apart and given this chance, this rare chance to actually help people. But we’re only human.”  
“And elf.”  
“Yeah, and elf. And dwarf. But you know, at least we’re here, we’re in this together. At least you’re here.”  
Taako wondered at how anyone could find that a comforting thought. He’d done nothing but bring misery wherever he went.  
………  
Then it was nearly a year later. They’d returned from Lucus’ lab, tried to settle back into waiting for the next horror story to be relayed through the Seekers. Waiting had never been a particular talent of Taako’s. He paced. He stole shit. He anxiety baked. And he drank. Anything to avoid letting that silence settle in. When he had nightmares, he’d wake with a small, strangled scream and spend a minute reorienting to the room, the gentle snores of Magnus on the bunk above him. His heart beating so hard it seemed like it’d burst from his chest.  
On one of those nights, Magnus was, somehow, next to him in the bed, a hand on his chest. That panic flooding his brain, a cold sweat across his skin. How had Taako missed this, had he really been sleeping so deeply that he hadn’t felt Magnus crawl onto the bed? The burly man groggily looked at him in the darkness and he seriously blushed, ripping his hand back like he’d touched the stove.  
“Oh Jeez, oh um….I’m…you were tossing around and I just wanted to see you were okay and looks like you are so,” the words were said real quickly but still slurred from sleep. He was backpedaling hard and reaching for the ladder. It was dark and maybe that’s why he wouldn’t meet Taako’s eyes, being that his vision wasn’t nearly as good as elf’s.  
“No! No, Magnus please.” Taako said, rubbing a hand through his hair and reaching out one arm.  
“Please…please what?” Asked Magnus, putting his other hand to the ladder. “It was just how you seemed so…I know it, you know. I get nightmares about all of it too, I couldn’t just listen to you suffer like that.”  
Taako shook his head and scooted close to the wall. “Please, please lie down and don’t make this worse.”  
“I’m not making anything worse, I’m going back to bed.” He said, trying to sound firm.  
“Yes, but be here.” Taako pointed at the bed. He wasn’t giving in easy. “Get in. See, it’s soft and warm and good.”  
“And yours.”  
“And mine, yes but…” Taako swallowed hard. “For fuck’s sake, Magnus just lie down here so I don’t have to talk about my feelings.”  
Magnus paused and had a good little think. Then, slowly, he got off the ladder and lay down again. He kept a respectful distance from Taako, but the elf was having none of it, he shamelessly wrapped his body around Magnus who froze like a deer in headlights. “If we need each other, then we need each other,” Taako whispered aggressively. “So…so be here! It’s hard enough to carry this shit all alone.”  
Magnus relaxed very slowly, then cautiously tucked an arm under Taako’s head, and placed his free hand on the thigh that was across his waist. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat dryly. “Um…” He paused, closed his eyes, and then opened them again to the dark room. “Ok.”  
“It’s okay? Because it needs to be okay.” Taako said, and there was actual fear in his voice.  
“It’s ok,” Magnus said firmly, and turned his head toward Taako. “If you hold onto me, then I’ll hold onto you, buddy.”  
And the way Magnus looked at him just then, like he’d been given a wonderful gift that he hadn’t really expected. Taako knew he probably looked all gooey eyed too. It was sorta gross, but for the first time in a really long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone. Is this what it feels like, he wondered, to actually trust? To actually be loved?  
And then Magnus kissed him.  
….  
Taako took a shaky breath and stood up tall. He brushed off some imaginary dirt from his skirt. The great wizard looked the lich twins right in their awful, sunglassed eyes with all the courage he could muster.  
“I know what it means to be a hero, babes.” Taako said into the waiting silence. “It’s when you don’t just take the shit life gives you and pass it back on down the river.”  
“Sounds like you know someone in particular,” the female elf, Lydia, cooed.  
“Yeah, yeah I guess I do.” Taako said, mostly to himself. He tightened his grip on the umbrastaff and felt the pain of his wrecked body sear like a bolt of lightning had gone through him. “And you know what?”  
They shrugged, looking bored. “Hm?”  
Taako smiled grimly and said, “We’re gonna save each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love these soft boys. This is my first fan fiction in a decade. More to come!


End file.
